ircle Bar. There she would have Mrs. Norton for a companion, and
she might ride each day to the cabin. He was certain that Hollis would
arrange to have his men care for the cattle. He assured her that he
would settle that question with Hollis when the latter passed the cabin
that night on his return to the Circle Bar. Of course Hollis would take
the Coyote trail to-night, he insinuated, grinning hugely at the blushes
that reached her face.

But Hollis did not pass the cabin that night. He had taken the Dry
Bottom trail on his return to the Circle Bar.

He had accomplished very little that day on account of the heat--and a
certain vision that had troubled him--taking his mind off his work and
projecting it to a little cabin in a small basin, to a porch where sat a
girl--the girl of his vision. She had voluntarily kissed him. Had it
been all on account of gratitude? Of course--though--Well, memory of the
kiss still lingered and he was willing to forgive her the slight lapse
of modesty because he had been the recipient.

There had been one interesting development in Dry Bottom during the day.
All day the town had swarmed with ranch owners who had come in to the
court house to list their cattle for taxation and register their brands.
Shortly after noon Ben Allen had dropped into the _Kicker_ office
with the news that every owner in the county with the exception of
Dunlavey had responded to the law's demands.

To Hollis's inquiry regarding the course he would pursue in forcing
Dunlavey to comply with the law, Allen remarked with a smile that there
was "plenty of time." He had had much experience with men of the
Dunlavey type.

Potter and Hollis exchanged few words during the ride to the Circle Bar.
The heat--the eternal, scorching, blighting heat--still continued; the
dust had become an almost unbearable irritation. During the trip to the
ranch the two men came upon an arroyo over which Hollis had passed many
times. At a water hole where he had often watered his horse they came
upon several dead steers stretched prone in the green slime. The water
had disappeared; the spring that had provided it had dried and there was
nothing to tell of it except a small stretch of damp earth, baking in
the sun. The steers were gaunt, lanky creatures, their hides stretched
tight as drum-heads over their ribs, their tongues lolling out, black
and swollen, telling mutely of their long search for water and their
suffering. Coyotes had bee